This year I hope Santa brings the kids some immune systems for Christmas. With batteries included.
The Boss brought a virus with a cough into the house when he caught hand, foot & mouth disease a few weeks ago. No 2 has probably had h,f&m before, because when she came down with a virus, possibly the same one, it produced no blisters but bright red cheeks and a worse cough. No 1 caught that version too but was ill enough to need to stay off nursery. No 3 has only got a bit of a sniffle with it, but it’s making her grumpy and not sleep well. I’ve got the pathetic cough, sore throat and ropiness that No 1 has, and am feeling pretty miserable. Though I think everyone is enjoying me having a hoarse voice – there’s a yelling amnesty. And boy, are the little minxes playing up to that already this morning! To cap it all, I think No 2 has been chewing and licking her shoes again – she barfed all over her bed (and pillows and duvet and favourite teddy and curtains and carpet) last night. I was up till silly o’clock with the washing machine, trying to make the horrible smell go away, scooping out regurgitated bits of macaroni cheese from the washing machine seal between washloads (yuckkkkkk).
So I’m a teensy, weensy bit over-tired this morning!
No 2 is back to her normal self now, though, asking for “cuss-ass” (custard) with her breakfast. No 1 has just suggested that I wear mascara to feel better: “When you wear mascara, Mummy, you don’t look like a dead person walking about”. Charming!!!